Predictions after supper

An original literary non-fiction-style account of opening fortune cookies with relatives after a restaurant meal.

My brother opened his cookie first. The message told him that an unexpected journey would bring happiness. He said that this meant his planned holiday would go well. My aunt pointed out that the holiday was hardly unexpected, since he had been telling us about it since February. He folded the paper and put it in his wallet anyway.

My mother's message advised patience. She passed it to my father, who read it, smiled and passed it back. Neither explained the exchange. My younger cousin asked whether the messages were chosen for us by the person in the kitchen. The waiter said that they came in a large box. She looked disappointed until he added that he did not know which one anybody would get.

I opened mine carefully, trying not to drop crumbs onto the tablecloth. It said that someone valued my advice. I began wondering who this might be. At once, I remembered three recent conversations in which I had spoken at length. I did not remember asking whether the advice had been useful.

My cousin's paper was blank. She turned it over twice, then held it up to the light. The waiter offered another cookie. She refused and said that the blank one meant she could decide for herself. My aunt asked whether that was also true of the printed ones. For a moment, nobody reached for the bill.

Outside, my brother checked that his message was still in his wallet. My cousin asked him to keep her blank paper safe as well. He found a place for it beside his own. She reminded him not to write anything on it, even if he thought of something good.

What do you learn about the ways the family respond to the messages?